Limbs and Vessels
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: During the summer of Harry's 3rd and 4th years, news of the existence of a creature called Homunculus reaches Voldermort's ears, along with perhaps a new way to gain back his body…and his immortality. Incompatible with CoS.


**A/N: **You're probably wondering why the heck I'm starting new stories now. The reason is because I'm somewhat sick of my Digimon Frontier ones right now and need some other fandom. Not Yu Gi Oh GX because I need to rewatch the series…and I'm stuck on FMA. And somehow Envy cropped up. Along with a conversation about all the HP/FMA x-overs that send Ed to Hogwarts. So I've decided to write one that doesn't…except maybe for a tiny visit. And it won't be too long; I'll try and finish it in the winter break…after the dreaded thing called exams. And it's somewhat AU on the part of FMA, ie. it doesn't really follow CoS. It still takes place in 1994 though, even though it may not sound that way all the time. You'll find out why later. FMA technicalities again.

Of course, how many of you read my Digimon Frontier fics anyway? Never mind. Just enjoy, and feedback is welcomed with open arms.

* * *

_**Limbs and Vessels**_

_Prologue_

Little paws crunched their way through the rotted remains of those leaves of spring that had fallen prematurely from their perch. Sharp nails cut through the minute strands of cellular fibre gripping the remains of flesh together and the slow summer breeze swiped up the pieces with a clumsy hand and tossed them about. Mousy brown fur caught the dim rays of the setting sun filtering through the high limbs of the Albanian forest. A bird chirped from above, before breaking canopy and flying into the horizon, and the rat stood upon his hind legs to gaze upon its surrounds with a sniff. Trees rose in all directions, trunks smoothed over time with only the higher branches growing and controlling territory with green buds barely visible from the ends. Closer to earth were shreds of tall grass standing erect, loose stone and soil and forest litter and the occasional dropped nut. Most importantly though was the absence of any other forms of life, and it was with great care that the rodent swept the layers of the forest again, assessing the variant smells that wafted through his adept nose, before he closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, the forest had shrunk and taken in some colour…or so it appeared. Truthfully, it was he who had changed: from a common brown rat to a short man of thirty-four. Peter Pettigrew was his name: an illegal animagus but by no means an inadept one. Indeed, he still sniffed the air, trusting his scent more so than his sight before straightening up and collecting his bearings. The sun was noticeably dipping to his right, marking the path he needed to take by its gentle orange rays lovingly embracing the leaves shivering with the night's approach. A bird cried out in the distance; the little black figure suddenly appeared in the sky like an arrow shooting towards the ball of flame before vanishing as the light swallowed him whole. In that instance he had curled up somewhat – not scared in essence but approaching a level that could be defined as such – in thought that perhaps the other was one after his skin…and there were a fair few of them around. Being officially dead was quite helpful in that aspect, but if someone should find him, especially before he could earn his Master's favour…he trembled violently, and not from the sudden blast of cold wind permeating the summer air. The Dark Lord simply had that effect.

The wind vanished soonafter, as quickly and mysteriously as it had appeared and the leaves stilled in their insistent flutter, leaving the forest still and silent. The mousy man took another step, eager to reach some place more inviting before the darkness settled in – like that pub on the outskirts of the little town that broke off the small outset of the Albanian forest from the much larger one. It was a warming thought and his boyish face quickly brightened at the thought of some brewage to warm his toes and fingertips. Money wasn't a problem; the appearance of a sewer rat served more than one purpose after all.

He took another step, more quickly and less cautiously, and an answering rustle greeted him.

He immediately jumped, eyes darting around the foliage and debris that littered the forest floor. Twigs, leaves, rocks…eventually, his vision clamped upon a rather large snake, green and slithering slowly away. Immediately, Peter found himself backing away; this particular snake was bigger than Nagini, the last time he had seen his Master's "pet" anyway. Perhaps it was the wrong term, but there was little else that could serve as a substitute. The fact that the colour was a little paler was far more comforting.

Still, he stayed perfectly still as the flat head rose off the grass as the body coiled, yellow eyes staring at him. He resisted the urge to twitch, or transform back into the far less threatening appearance of a rat with a missing right toe. At the same time, he found himself wishing he still possessed a wand; it was, sadly, one of the sacrifices he had been forced to make…along with the freedom of Sirius Orion Black. The wand seemed like a bigger loss; if only he had been able to swipe the wand of Ron Weasley…but unfortunately he wouldn't have been able to carry it in his rodent form.

Now…if he could manage the blasting curse as effectively _without_ a wand as he could _with_ it…

But the snake turned and slithered away again, and Peter breathed before waiting the length of a hyaline fracture and then moving on to his destination.

* * *

The scaled body rolled upon the grass as the being dragged his form through the obstacle. For a moment he considered morphing into something more mobile, but Envy had been quick to find that metamorphosis was far more difficult on this side of the Gate than it had been in Amestris. While there he had worn the identity of others like well-fit garments, anything other than the serpent's face by which he had arrived in Munich in 1921. Shrinking the form proved far easier than changing it altogether; the one time he had managed to come face to face with Van Hohenheim, the older man had disappeared by the time he'd managed to morph into a semi-presentable form. In addition, the consequence had been so draining upon his form that by the time he had recovered from a pitiful little worm living off scraps of lettuce and cabbage leaves, Hohenheim of Light had long since vanished from the city, as had Edward. The latter had been somewhat easier to track down, seeing as he had been studying under one Professor Hermann Oberth in Rome, and later to the Vienna University of Technology in Austria and finally settling back in London. He had, in fact, for reasons of his own, never returned to Munich after 1923. Last the homunculus had seen or heard, the shrimp had been running around with teenage children while still retaining the appearance of a twenty or so year old man…save the face that aged only with the experiences that time brought rather than the passing thereof. But Edward Elric was a secondary agenda; he wanted to see Hohenheim suffer and then die for his abandoning. Getting a hold of him proved to be rather difficult; apparently he hadn't lost his talent of exploiting aliases.

He must have been looking for a way back across the Gate. What else was there for him after all? He hadn't even stayed with his son – Envy found his sin somewhat sated by that thought; Edward hadn't gained his loss by any means. His only sin was the tainted blood that ran through his veins.

The scaled body pulled itself along the fine blades of glad; it was lucky his skin was scaled and not stripped bare for the tiny edges to cut into each movement as he slithered along. He could grow to his more comfortable size, but he found smaller was both faster and less noticeable; the last time he had been serpent size, he'd eaten two young girls and been hit with some sort of weapon that immobilised him for an age. The disappearance of the carcass from the National "Wizarding" Museum had caused quite a commotion, but was their own fault for thinking the failure to reproduce a heartbeat by waving a foolish stick meant ultimate death.

He was a Homunculus for goodness' sake. But more than that, he was the sin of Envy. Envy who lead to anger and anger to hate, and that to an immortality drained with hunger, a monster whose bottomless appetite needed to be sated. But he was more, far more, than a monster. He was even more than the humans, who harboured far more viscous monsters than which they feared. He was the _perfect_ human, the Homunculus. After all, any ordinary human would have given up.

But not him. He'd slowly, tirelessly, followed the scent of Hohenheim of Light to Albania. The trail somewhat branched again, but he was close to humans. He could smell them, the fear of one in particular. He knew it wasn't his quarry long before he laid eyes upon the quaking man and left without another thought; he barely made an appetizing meal. In fact, the mousy shrimp (for he was even shorter than the infamous Fullmetal Alchemist) would probably give him indigestion if he tried. He wasn't Gluttony after all.

It was a little way away that he caught a familiar scent mixed with something…unusual. An animal if he wasn't mistaken. A sewer rat…with the same odour as that measly little man he'd past in the forest.

But it was growing cold and his body was slowing dramatically. The hollows of passing trees winked at him and eventually he heaved his long body into one. How shameful that _he_, a Homunculus, had been degraded to the same fallacies as a human. To think the world moved along while they wasted eight to ten hours a day in sleep. But he had no choice; the Red Stones were gone. Human lives didn't work so well on this side of the Gate.

It was only revenge that made it all worth it. A vengeance that hadn't died over four and a half thousand years.


End file.
